


Lucky

by Inell



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison is Done with Their Shit, Alternate Universe, Banter, Detective Allison, Detective Stiles, F/M, Flirting, Getting Together, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Paramedic Isaac, Sassy Isaac, Sassy Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Stiles and Isaac like to bicker, and Allison thinks they both need to grow up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SWS Week Theme 5: Law Enforcement

 

Filling out reports is the worst part of the job.

The academy doesn’t prepare anyone for the sheer amount of nonsensical paperwork that is required with every dispatch, and the arrests require even _more_. Sometimes, Stiles watches Criminal Minds and wonders if his life would be paperwork free if he’d actually gone into the FBI training program like he’d planned his entire life. Of course, a television show that has a prevalence of crimes against women isn’t the best example of reality, so he’s probably lucky he joined the SFPD instead.

The only good thing about the paperwork is that most of it’s repetitive, so he’s learned exactly where to check and what to write over the last seven years. The paperwork changed when he got promoted to detective, but it isn’t like there’s a ton of variance when it comes to legal papers. His partner, Allison, also hates paperwork, though, so they usually end up engaging in a variety of different wagers in order to avoid being stuck with it.

This afternoon, it had been a guess on how many traffic lights would turn red between where they nabbed their perp and the hospital, where they had to take him for a check-up after Allison broke the asshole’s nose. Stiles has one of those brains that stores useless information and weird, random facts, so he had actually known just how many red lights were between the park and the hospital. He’d allowed luck to escape two with greens, but his guess had been based on probability and fact. Allison, meanwhile, had made a much lower, unrealistic guess, so Stiles thought he’d won for sure.

The fact that Allison is driving today is a factor he failed to consider in his guess, however. She drives like a maniac, and this is coming from someone who had a glovebox full of speeding tickets by eighteen. They’d reached the hospital in record time, she’d flashed her dimples and tossed him a pen before wandering off to grab some food while Stiles filled out the required reports. It’s really not a fair win, but Stiles isn’t going to question it because he’s won more than a few bets on a technicality before.

Hopefully, she’ll at least bring him some food because they haven’t even had time to get breakfast yet.

He’s filling in the last box on the next to last page when something pink and sparkly is tossed on his paperwork. He blinks at it, quickly realizing it’s a doughnut with pink frosting and glittery sprinkles. His eyes narrow as some of the glitter sprinkles spill onto the paper, basically ruining it.

“Did you really just do that?” he asks, teeth slightly clenched because he’s going to have to redo the entire page now. He doesn’t even have to look up to know the guilty culprit. There’s only one asshole in San Francisco brazen enough to toss a glittery doughnut on his report. “I thought you’d gone to night shift, and I wouldn’t have to see your stupid face anymore.”

“You know you’d miss me, Stilinski.” Isaac Lahey, bane of Stiles’ existence for nearly eighteen months, is smirking at him when Stiles finally raises his head. His ridiculously curls are all loose and flowing like he’s filming some shampoo commercial, and his cheekbones look sharp enough to cut glass. Stiles can’t stand the asshole, hasn’t liked him since Erica first introduced them, and he hates him a little more for being so fucking _pretty_.

“No, I really, really wouldn’t,” Stiles mutters, making a face when Isaac just looks smug. Alright, so he might miss their adversarial taunting more than he cares to admit, but he refuses to acknowledge that bickering with Isaac is a highlight of the day.

Allison has informed him that the practice of pulling pigtails is one of society’s ways of trying to brainwash women into thinking abuse is adorable, and that she’s not going to tolerate him engaging in such behavior when he’s a grown man that she _knows_ is a proud feminist. Since neither he nor Isaac identify as female, and their bickering is usually more playful than mean-spirited, Stiles chooses to endure her disappointed looks and frustrated sighs versus actually doing something productive, but stupid, like talking about his attraction to the sassy paramedic who gives him hell daily.

“Erica heard about you and Argent having a nice romp through the park,” Isaac continues, totally ignoring Stiles, “and I, being the generous and caring individual that I am, realized you probably hadn’t been able to have your mandatory doughnut this morning.”

“Ha. Ha,” Stiles deadpans. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard a doughnut joke.”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s the first so long as it’s the best.” Isaac winks at him, which makes Stiles tighten his jaw because he is not going to be the one who admits defeat in their little war of flirtation.

Stiles stares at Isaac for a moment before he picks up the doughnut and makes a big show of taking a bite. Even Allison’s told him that he has this uncanny way of making eating sexy, so he plays it up, adding a moan or two before licking glitter sprinkles off his fingers in a borderline pornographic way. “It was good, but not the best,” he says, smirking as Isaac stares open-mouthed.

“If you’re finished fellating your fingers, we’ve got a call for a B&E over on Hawthorne,” Allison says dryly, her eyes practically shining with amusement when Stiles startles and looks at her. She’s got a To Go container in her hand, and a bag with some drinks in it.

“Right. Got it.” Stiles wipes his fingers on the ruined piece of his paperwork. “I still have a page and a half to go, but I’ll finish it up on the way. What about our perp?”

“Boyd and Parrish are here to take him in for us since they were here with a guy anyway.” Allison waggles her fingers at Isaac. “Morning, Lahey. Did you bring me a doughnut, too, or is Stilinski just _special_?”

“I, uh, you don’t like sugar,” Isaac stammers, losing his sassy composure when faced with full-on Allison. “You were telling Erica about some healthy eating thing, right?”

“I like healthy eating, but doughnuts are an exception. After all, I’d hate to be fired for not indulging in the official food of my precinct,” she says matter-of-factly. “That _is_ what you were inferring by giving my partner one, isn’t it?”

“Ali, let it go,” Stiles hisses, grabbing his report and shoving her away from the nurses’ station. “See you later, Lahey.”

“Let it go?” she repeats as he leads her to the elevators. “Stiles, we’ve talked about how unhealthy relationships often begin with a shaky foundation, and I don’t see how ridiculous flirting disguised as teasing and bickering isn’t somewhat shaky.”

“I’m glad that you’re invested in my hypothetical unhealthy relationship with Isaac, but pulling out the dimples and intense stare doesn’t help anything.” Stiles groans when they step on the elevator and he sees Erica talking to Isaac, who is still looking after him and Allison. “It’s just going to scare him off.”

“Honey, if he gets scared off because of me, he’s not worth the trouble,” she tells him, leaning up to kiss his cheek as the doors slide shut. He looks at her, arching a brow, and she grins. “What? You’re my partner, and you’ve somehow become my best friend, so I’m invested in you being happy with someone worthy. It’s not my fault you’re too oblivious to realize who all is interested in being that someone.”

“You’re meddling, young woman.” Stiles huffs and sulks at her. “My non-existent romantic life is not a source of amusement, alright?”

“Hate to tell you this, Stiles, but it totally _is_.” Allison dimples and winks before she sashays off the elevator as if he somehow timed the doors opening at the opportune time. With Allison, she very well might have. He doesn’t doubt anything when it comes to her because she’s like a force of nature that he’s in awe of, terrified of, and turned on by all at the same time.

They head to the B&E, and he grumbles a bit about Isaac being a dick and ruining that page of his report, and she just teases him until he’s practically covered in a splotchy blush because she knows which buttons to push to get the best reaction. The next few hours pass quickly. The B&E isn’t too difficult to solve, a total inside job that they figure out once they learn that a brother-in-law has been skulking about lately. He finishes up the report, eats the cold burger that she bought him at the hospital cafeteria, and she takes pity by agreeing to do the B&E report while he washes glittery sprinkles off his fingers.

It’s near the end of the shift when they get a call about a possible arson at an apartment complex a couple of miles away. They tend to focus more on robbery, assault, and murder, but this is an all-out call for assistance, so they hurry that way. When they arrive, they see that the place is still on fire, the heat immediately making him sweat as he gets out of the car. The fire department is present, two engines on-site, and he sees several ambulances already taking patients to the hospital.

“Where do you need us, Boss?” he asks, jogging up to Captain Deaton and scanning the parameter. This is obviously an all hands on deck situation based on the size of the fire and probability of potential victims based on the time of day and location.

“Help wherever necessary,” Deaton says, motioning towards a group of firemen carrying victims out of the blaze.

Stiles shrugs off his suit coat, rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and joins the chaos. He goes over to Mahealani, who’s the head of Engine 28, and he starts helping triage the people the fire department is bringing out. As he works, he asks general questions, making mental notes of anything that could help the investigation, but also focusing on helping the people calm down. Issac and Erica soon arrive, taking a critical victim in their bus.

It goes like that for a while. The fire is finally getting more controlled, but there are still victims being brought out. One entire area of the apartment complex has been cut off by the fire, so they’re just now reaching those residents. Allison’s got soot on her face when she comes over and gets his attention, and he wonders what she’s been doing while he’s been helping the fire department.

“There’s some trouble brewing over there,” Allison says lowly, nodding towards an area where a group of residents is waiting for transport. “The tall guy with red hair is acting suspicious. I want to bring him in for questioning, mostly to diffuse the situation because the buff guy and the older guy seem to be trying to provoke him.”

“Divide and conquer or less subtle?” Stiles asks, studying the group intently. “The lady with the near beehive is acting odd, too.”

“It’s probably nothing, considering they’ve just survived a massive fire that’s probably going to have a death toll, but I trust my gut.” Allison looks at him. “I say we go for less subtle. There are enough police around that no one’s going to do anything stupid.”

“Ugh. Now you’ve jinxed us, Ali.” He sticks his tongue out at her. “Alright. Let’s do it,” he says, exchanging a fist bump with her that’s become their thing during the last two years of partnership. They walk over to the group, and Stiles makes sure his badge and gun are evident. “Hello, folks. We’d like to ask you all a few questions, if you’re up to it.”

“Is now really the time, officer?” The older guy is curt and annoyed. “My wife has just been taken to the hospital, and I’d think you’d be out there figuring out what caused this instead of wasting time with us.”

“I understand, Sir, but we’ve found that questioning after the event can provide us with a clearer picture of what transpired,” Allison says gently, flashing her dimples and making most of the group melt automatically. “It’ll allow us to analyze full details while trying to determine the source of the fire.”

“We know what caused it,” the blonde woman says, motioning at the redhead. “He’s always starting trouble for us here, and I know this is his fault. He smells like gasoline. Talk to him!”

“Actually, I think I’d rather talk to you, Ma’am,” Stiles says, automatically suspicious of the way she immediately casts blame and the way she’s behaving. Before he has a chance to say anything else, she’s moving, a flash of silver in her hand, and then there’s a burning sensation in his arm. He jerks back, listening to people screaming, watching Allison kick the gun out of the woman’s hand before taking her down. It all happens, but he doesn’t really register any of it.

“You fucking idiot!” There are hands on his shoulders, and then he turns, seeing Isaac standing there. Isaac scowls at him, checking his vitals and making him sit down on the ground as he prods and pokes at the gunshot wound.

“She shot me,” Stiles mutters, blinking at Isaac then looking at his arm. “That crazy blonde lady shot me.”

“I know. I saw it happen,” Isaac says tightly, sticking a needle in his arm before wrapping something around it. “We’ve got to get you to the hospital. It’s not life threatening, but there’s a lot of blood loss, and they need to remove the bullet.”

Erica is suddenly there with a stretcher, and they’re both manhandling Stiles like he weighs nothing. “Next time, try avoiding bullets at a fire, alright?” Erica says, clucking her tongue at him like this is somehow his fault.

“Wait on me! I’m coming with you,” Allison yells, shoving the blonde woman in Deaton’s direction before racing after them. When they’re in the back of the bus, Isaac forces Stiles to lie back on the stretcher, and Erica takes off like she’s had driving lessons from Allison. It isn’t until Isaac has finished the paramedic life-saving stuff that Allison lightly slaps the back of Stiles’ head. “When I said not subtle, I didn’t mean get yourself shot, dumbass.”

“I told you it was the blonde,” he says, smiling up at her. Isaac must have given him some good drugs in that IV because he’s feeling a little loopy right now. “Didn’t know she had a gun, though.”

“Just be glad she didn’t kill you because I’d have found a way to bring you back just so I could kill you myself,” Allison mutters, glaring down at him.

“Awww. You love me, Ali,” he teases, raising his hand and patting her hair. He rolls his head to the side to see Isaac watching them intently. “You’re so pretty.”

Isaac snorts even as he ducks his head. “I’ll be sure to remind you that you think so once you’re out of the hospital.” He clears his throat and looks at Allison before looking at Stiles. “You’re lucky that her aim was poor. If she’d been just a few more inches to the left, it could have hit your heart.”

“That would have sucked,” Stiles says firmly, feeling his eyelids growing heavier. Allison’s holding his left hand tightly, her thumb rubbing against the back in a reassuring sort of way. And Isaac’s on his right, checking his vitals and staring down at him without making any sassy comments. “Don’t wanna die until I’ve gone on a date with you.” He rolls his head and grins at Allison. “With both of you.”

Allison stares at him before she huffs a laugh. “Only you would try hitting on two people when you’re lying doped up with a gunshot wound to the arm,” she says, her tone totally fond even as she rolls her eyes. “Why don’t you get healed up, and then we can see about that date?”

“Uh, really?” Isaac is staring at Allison now, and Stiles likes the dopey way his face looks. He reaches up to touch his cheekbones, surprised that they don’t cut his fingers. “Stiles, stop fondling my face.”

“Gonna fondle other stuff when I’m not on drugs,” Stiles mutters, staring at his fingers when they somehow blur together into one big blob.

“Yes, really.” Allison sounds all matter-of-fact and no nonsense in that way that totally hits Stiles’ competency kink. “I’ve resisted the moron because becoming romantically involved with a partner is stupid, but, obviously, my intellect has decreased the longer I’m around him. And you two have your imbecilic bickering flirtation thing, which I have no desire on interfering with. I certainly wouldn’t mind watching you two together, though I understand if you’re more interested in one without the other.”

“Uh, no, that’s not an issue. I want him, yeah, but I don’t mind you watching. Or participating.” Isaac clears his throat, and Stiles looks away from his blobby hand to see that Isaac’s face is flushed a pretty shade of pink. “He’s not likely going to remember any of this once the medications worn off.”

“Then we’ll just have to remind him, won’t we?” Allison dimples before she kisses Stiles’ forehead.

“Yeah, I guess we will.” Isaac leans down and lightly presses his lips against the corner of Stiles’ mouth. Stiles blinks at him, leaning up for a real kiss as he smacks his lips. Isaac smiles as he gently pushes him back against the stretcher. “Don’t worry, Stiles. We’ll take good care of you.”


End file.
